She's fighting with the sky
by plainkidsister
Summary: McCoy/Chapel. "Reach into your pants and feel around for a while. When you find your balls, leave the library and meet me at the bar."


[a/n: written for a TFLN () at st_xi_kink. enjoy!]

"Excuse me?"

McCoy's head shot up, a string of drool following his mouth and he blinked sleepily at the tiny girl standing in front of him. Her blue-tinged skin took on a hint of pink as she observed his scowl as he realized where he was, what time it was, and the pathetic nature of his loneliness.

"Your comm," she motioned with a small finger to the device next to his hand, "it's vibrating and the librarian is complaining."

He mumbled a "thanks" and she smiled politely, lingering for a moment as he picked up his communicator and flipped it open. 3 messages. The first was the typical drunken message from Kirk - _i want you know _- usually misspelled and misdirected and he deleted it quickly. The next was from Joanna - _Daddy, there's a bad taste in my mouth. Is something wrong? _- and he replied, taking the time to formulate a somewhat intelligent answer for his only daughter, stressing the importance of brushing her teeth and not eating strange fruits.

The last was from Christine - _Where are you? _- a peculiar one, seeing as how he had told her he was studying and couldn't be bothered tonight. This tactical paper wasn't going to write itself and damnit if he wasn't going to make it perfect this time. Commander Stahl didn't seem to like him and he had a blonde-haired, blue-eyed inkling why.

He quickly typed his reply - _Library. Do not disturb. _- and set the comm down, turning back to the neglected textbook, which was now damp with his saliva. He did his best to wipe it off, disgusted at his own bodily fluids and focused on the example case study, his eyes drooping a bit. He reached for his PADD and began to make notes when the comm rattled again.

_Leave and come meet me. You owe me. _The woman was a handful. Sure, he more than abused his "friend" card, copying her notes quite frequently when he was too hungover to make it to Starship Medical Ethics, but now was not the time to settle the score. She'd just have to settle for lunch or dinner, when he wasn't swamped with useless papers for idiot commanders.

He wrote, _Another time, sorry. Busy. _It was short and frank but he didn't have time to explain, especially not to her. She'd want to sit down and talk about his feelings and he'd rather her punch him in the groin and call it even than do any of that. He turned to his PADD, notes scattered across the screen and frowned. Now he'd have to organize it all, cite each word, somehow formulate sentences and then get 6 pages of -

The comm interrupted his focus, causing the table to shake and he groaned angrily. _I'm alone. Slightly drunk and wholly vulnerable. You need to be here. _

Now he knew for sure women were instruments of Satan, engineered to excite every fantasy men dreamed up only to crush them all under emotional manipulation and menstruation. Women were icebergs - you only saw the tip, but get too close and you're sure to be ripped apart and buried by guilt.

It wasn't as though he was repulsed by her, but quite the contrary. She was smart, disgustingly pretty, and vicious with a laser scalpel. She had the bedside manner of a goddamn angel and she always seemed to have some sort of delicious smell about her. He supposed it was from her culinary adventures he heard about through Jim, who had apparently slept with the whole class before he realized the one girl he hadn't scored was the same nurse McCoy was partnered with. "Bones," Kirk had pleaded, "please tell me you've hit that." He'd brushed him off with a slight toward his manhood and no more words about Nurse Chapel had been spoken.

For Christine and the sake of his professional relationship with her, he replied, _I'll get you a taxi. No drinks tonight._ He was confident that would shut her up; if not, he would just turn the comm off to study in silence. He tucked it away in his tunic pocket and turned to check the time. Quarter after 11. He groaned and stood, trying to find a replicator that served decent food. A group of nurses were huddled around one replicator and he smoothed the wrinkles in his tunic, wiping the corners of his mouth with his sleeve and walking toward the gaggle of young women.

His pocket vibrated and halted his next step. He opened it to read:

_Reach down the front of your pants and feel around for a while. When you find your balls, leave the library and meet me at the bar._

The curse he growled startled the ladies, who mumbled something to each other and hurried from the replicator, shooting him disgusted looks. That only made him angrier and he returned to his things, stuffing the textbook and the PADD into his bag and stomping out of the library.

He found her at the tavern on the edge of campus, nursing a small glass of golden liquid between her dainty fingers. She was alone but he noticed a cadet lurking nearby, working up a nerve to slide into the booth beside her. McCoy hoisted his pack up and moved toward the nurse, sitting down noisily next to her.

She lifted a delicate brow. "I see you found them."

"I'm taking you home. _Now_."

Rolling her eyes, she pushed the glass toward him, "Drink and be merry, Scrooge."

He eyed the glass and gave in, taking a small sip and looking around the bar. It was a mix of students, ranging from the basic command track knuckleheads to the idiot engineers, topped off with a nice dose of nurses and medical residents. The women were scarce and he noticed that every female had a male companion, pushing drinks her way and talking low in her ear. He turned back to look at Chapel, who was gauging him with her arms across her chest, left leg crossed over her right.

"What are you looking at?" He took a big gulp from the glass and hissed when he didn't anticipate the burn from his tongue to his chest.

"You." Her foot nudged his knee and he jerked away, finishing off the drink and pushing it to the end of the table. "Fine. I'll stop throwing myself at you and you can be miserable and lonely." She gathered her clutch and began to move out of the booth.

"Now, wait just a minute -" McCoy scrambled up to follow her but they were halted by the lurking cadet, his false confidence oozing from the tilt of his hips toward Chapel. She only lifted her brows.

"Hey there," he said smoothly, "is your boyfriend bothering you?"

She smirked, the tip of her tongue emerging devilishly from the side of her mouth. "Maybe. Honey?" She turned to a stilled McCoy, "This young man thinks you're _bothering_ me."

McCoy rose slowly and sneered at the kid, his pronounced canines catching his bottom lip. "Listen kid, you need to mind your own damn business." Without thinking, he reached out and snatched Chapel's arm, pulling her behind him. The cadet said nothing, only let his jaw grow slack in submission, and McCoy felt her hands slip around his waist and squeeze his groin. He grunted and she hummed quietly.

"Sorry, mister, guess he changed his mind. Bye now."

The kid ran off and McCoy turned around to face her, nostrils flared in anger. "What is your problem?"

"That you don't get that I'm frustrated, and I mean _sexually frustrated, and you don't even look twice at me." She was borderline hysterical, chin jutting defiantly toward him. A few cadets were staring in their direction and McCoy rolled his eyes, taking in a deep breath and stepping forward to connect his mouth with hers. _

_Her fervent tongue surprised him and he gripped the nape of her neck to pull her away, their lips making a loud smack when parted. She was rendered speechless, a result he thoroughly enjoyed, whispering into her ear, "Is that good enough?"_

_She laughed, draping her arms around his neck and replying, "I guess you don't need me to check and see if you brought your balls?" _

"_Sweetheart," he moaned, "I'd love a second opinion." _


End file.
